


The Seduction Of Fleur Delacour

by kcstories



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Community: hp_rarities, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-17
Updated: 2010-03-17
Packaged: 2017-10-08 01:43:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It took me quite a while to admit it, if only to myself, but the truth of the matter was that I wanted Fleur for myself."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Seduction Of Fleur Delacour

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Originally written as a gift for redshoeson in the first round of hp_rarities.  
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction set in the Harry Potter universe - all recognisable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No copyright infringement is intended. Written for fun, not profit.  
> Pairings: Ginny/Fleur, Bill/Tonks, Ginny/Luna (Remus/Tonks, past Harry/Ginny, past Remus/Sirius, and others.)  
> Warnings: Mild DH spoilers (minus epilogue), infidelity, deception, sexual references, scheming Ginny.

When I look back on it, a significant part of the attraction, I'm sure, was the fact that she was nothing at all like me, at least not as far as looks were concerned.

She was dainty, frail and feminine, whereas I…

Well, all right, some people did claim that I'd grown up to be beautiful too, and true enough, I was no longer the skinny, flatchested tomboy I'd once been, but nonetheless, most of the time, I still felt clumsy, out of place and like I was taking up far more space than I ought to.

It was all down to the curse of being the youngest, I suppose, and to having so many brothers. Mum and I got along just fine, but she was generally pretty busy with the others- especially the twins were a right handful- so there was rarely any time left for mother-and-daughter chats.

Still, despite my teenage insecurities, the male attention that suddenly came my way made me believe that there was something to it after all, that I had finally made the successful transition from ugly duckling to graceful swan.

I remember quite vividly, as does everyone else, no doubt, how over the moon I was when I'd finally hooked Harry Potter.

Harry Potter, the one I'd wanted for so long, since forever it felt like, though that sentiment soon changed once I'd reeled him in.

Why, you ask? Well, not to put too fine a point on it, the boy soon turned out to be as dull as ditchwater.

It would be an understatement to say that I was unpleasantly surprised. I mean, you'd expect the bloke who was destined to save the wizarding world- if not the world, full stop- to be at least _mildly_ adventurous and exciting, wouldn't you?

Well, I certainly did.

But no such luck, I'm afraid.

All Harry Potter did was leave me frustrated and wondering with ever-increasing frequency about the lengths a girl would have to go to get a snog out of him, never mind a shag.

And to set the record straight, because it seems that there are still some conflicting rumours circulating about our break-up, it was me who dumped him, not the other way around. He was quite content having a little sister to snuggle with.

It's not entirely impossible that his shoddy behaviour put me off men completely; unless, of course, that was actually Fleur's doing.

 

*****

 

Fleur.

She was about to marry Bill, even though many people disapproved.

You see, she was gorgeous, elegant and French, and Bill…

Well, far be it for me to start slagging off my own brother, but the long and short of it was that those two were completely incompatible and well, just plain wrong for each other.

Everyone thought so. Everyone _said_ so as well, loudly and often and in no uncertain terms, though their reasons for objecting were vastly different from my own.

I took me quite a while to admit it, if only to myself, but the truth of the matter was that I wanted Fleur for myself.

It wasn't a crush. It wasn't anything like the hero worship I'd once felt for Harry Potter.

After all, let's be fair here, what had Fleur ever achieved that was even remotely heroic? Compete in the Triwizard Tournament? Nah, that was just luck of the draw. And she did a piss-poor job of it, besides.

No, what I felt whenever I thought about her was an overwhelming, all-encompassing urge to possess. I'd never felt anything like it before and it was, perhaps, even stronger than myself.

 

***

 

Of course, the fact that I knew what I wanted didn't necessarily mean that I'd also figured out how to go about getting it.

I didn't have a single clue how to seduce Fleur. I'd never done any active persuading of my own, you see. At the risk of sounding conceited, there had never been any need.

Luckily fate stepped in to lend a helping hand and it did so in the ever-changing shape of Nymphadora Tonks.

 

***

 

Poor Tonks.

She and Remus were completely mismatched.

No matter how he struggled to hide it, Remus was still mourning Sirius' death. It was no secret, at least not to us, that the two of them had been lovers, and not to sound like a blabbermouth or anything, but if you ask me, that made Tonks both the rebound girl and Remus' beard.

She deserved better than that, didn't she?

Besides, I'd seen the way she acted around Bill.

Well, it was hard to miss with her hair turning the brightest shades of pink and yellow whenever he was in the near vicinity, and he was clearly intrigued, if not plain flattered by her obvious interest.

I know he loved Fleur, of course he did, and even if he hadn't, her Veela powers would probably have tied him to her.

Or rather, she could have used them against him had she been that kind of person.

But she wasn't. She still isn't, and to some extent, that baffles me. I mean, that whole concept of possessing these incredible powers, but lacking the guts to use them? A terrible waste, if you ask me.

And yes, I do realise that sounds rather like something Tom Riddle once said, but then Tom Riddle taught me plenty. He made me think about things I'd have never even considered otherwise.

Of course he tried to kill me as well in the end, but I can't really hold that against him anymore. The man was a homicidal maniac and that's just what they do. It's hardly personal. And the lessons were still valuable, regardless of their source.

But I digress.

Like I said, Bill loved Fleur, but their relationship had its fair share of strife, too.

Most of it, I admit, was our family's fault. Mum wasn't that nice to Fleur, never had been, and Hermione clearly had issues with the girl as well. I expect most of hers were fuelled by jealousy, though that's probably not something she would have ever admitted to, herself.

Either way, my family's blatant disapproval and the many arguments that stemmed from it put a real a strain on Bill and Fleur's relationship, until slowly but surely, it got broken down piece by piece, like a million pebbles hitting a windshield, one at a time, and it was just a matter of waiting for the first real crack to appear.

It turned out that we didn't have to wait awfully long.

 

***

 

It was a full moon that night. Remus had taken his Wolfsbane and was locked up for everyone's safety, including his own.

Tonks was sitting outside on a bench, reading, while Bill had a spectacular row with Fleur in the kitchen.

I heard them screaming at one another. The whole county probably did.

It all started with a discussion about where they were going to live after the war: Britain or France.

Mum wouldn't have been happy about France and when Bill said as much, Fleur began to yell at him, called him a 'fils à maman' (a mummy's boy, I found out later) and told him to finally stand up to _zat 'orrible voman._

Of course no one, not even Fleur, was to get away with calling our Mum that, so what happened next wasn't very pretty.

The ground shook, the windows rattled and even Hermione didn't think it wise to intervene, although she's generally the first to stick her nose in where it's not wanted.

Bill finally stormed out of the house, livid, only to bump straight into Tonks.

 

***

 

Later that night there might or might not have been some liquor involved; to be more precise, the two bottles of Firewhisky that were conveniently stashed away in the kitchen and it's not entirely improbable that I was the one who put them there to find.

Still, it wasn't as if I forced Bill and Tonks to get plastered, to sleep together or to start their sordid little affair.

They did all that all by themselves and thus for the consequences, they only had themselves to blame.

My conscience was clear on that front. _Honestly._

 

***

 

One afternoon three weeks later, Fleur caught them snogging in the garden.

She was deeply upset.

Well, obviously; who wouldn't have been?

Still, I'm sure it must have been a hundred times worse for her. She was proud, gorgeous and used to always getting her own way, particularly with men.

Sadly, she didn't react at all how I'd originally anticipated, however. That was a serious miscalculation on my part, and the results of my poor judgment were nothing short of painful to watch.

She tried to get him back, pleaded with him for hours, practically threw herself at him every chance she got. She even stopped arguing with Mum for the sake of salvaging a relationship that should have been put out of its misery long ago.

If you ask me, no self-respecting woman should ever behave like that, and as I said, I'd hate to slag off my brother, but he should have said something there and then, not basked in all the extra attention.

I watched the revolting scenes unfold, one after the other, but said nothing.

Not yet.

Well, except for the occasional "Some men are complete bastards" whenever I felt that such a sentiment was called for.

Fleur wasn't terribly receptive at first. She was too besotted with my brother to be able to see sense, but I was in no hurry.

Time would surely take its course.

 

***

 

Her pregnancy two months later was a surprise.

Tonks', that is.

Even Remus had to drag himself out of denial then.

Werewolves whose Lycanthropy isn't managed in time are rendered infertile, you see— and how convenient for Hermione to have offhandedly pointed that out too one afternoon. I wonder whether Remus would have even known, otherwise. He was more relieved than hurt, though, and I guess that proves my earlier theory nicely.

And the really odd outcome of this whole situation was that I didn't even have to put into action my great, cunning plan to rip Fleur and Bill apart for good.

I still don't know if I was more disappointed or relieved at the time, but then I guess it's of no importance now, nor was it then.

I was well on my way to getting what I wanted.

Fleur was free.

But she wouldn't be for very long if I had any say in the matter.

 

***

 

At the time I had no experience with girls, though I wasn't exactly a stranger to the concept either.

There had been a few... _incidents_ at Quidditch.

I wanted to play professionally after the war, you know, no matter how dead set against it my family was. They'd rather I get married and have kids. Now, marriage I might have been able to handle, but kids? Harry was the one who wanted a large family; not me. I already had one, didn't I? And frankly, I'd seen enough to last me a lifetime.

But back to Quidditch…

I was quite certain that certain … _stuff_ happened after matches. It was mostly down to the post-game adrenalin, I guess. Some girls were still so riled up that they had things to work off, and judging from the pleasurable sighs and barely muffled moans coming from behind closed shower curtains, it didn't take a genius to figure out how they went about doing that.

I never took that route, myself.

I didn't fancy a single one of my team mates, for one thing. Those girls were far too muscular and butch -nothing at all like Fleur, come to mention it— and besides, I didn't want to get lumbered with a bad reputation again.

It had been bad enough at school.

Just because I was popular, that didn't automatically make me a slag, too.

Dean had been my first and up until then, my only.

In hindsight, the sole true regret I have, really, when it comes to blokes, is that I was still so young when I met Tom Riddle. Had I been sixteen or seventeen instead, that would have been a completely different matter. I don't think he'd have tried to kill me then.

But anyway, I had set out to seduce Fleur, which was both a scary and an exciting prospect, but there was still one major stumbling block.

I really didn't want her to be the first girl I slept with.

She was part Veela, gorgeous, a few years older than me and no doubt had more far more experience on the love front.

If I went to her, I wanted to know what I was doing. I wanted her to be impressed. It would be awkward otherwise, and it simply wouldn't work.

So I approached the one person I considered to be broadminded and free-spirited enough to help me.

One sunny morning in August, I had an interesting chat with Luna Lovegood.

 

***

 

Had Luna been a Muggle, she would have been one of those hippie characters my parents once told me about.

They'd park their cars and caravans near The Burrow and they'd wander into our garden, ring our doorbell and ask for cherry pie.

On the upside, they were usually so stoned that they blamed any magic they witnessed on hallucinations and generally didn't need to be Obliviated afterwards.

Luna would have taken to them like a fish to water. Even with battles raging all around us, she still believed that everyone should be making love, not war.

Keeping this in mind, I don't suppose you find it hard to believe that it didn't take much persuading on my behalf to get her to join me in bed.

 

***

 

The arrangement with Luna lasted all of three weeks and was, it must be said, far more enjoyable than I'd anticipated.

For someone who looked so angelic, innocent and naïve, she certainly knew how to have fun.

One afternoon, Fleur caught us in the greenhouse. It was nothing I'd planned, but the effect was most rewarding regardless.

I think it was in that very moment, with my hands up Luna's skirt, that she really noticed me for the first time.

"Mon Dieu," she muttered, and left, looking quite flustered.

I chuckled deep in my throat, only to be pulled out of my reverie by Luna, who gave me a puzzled look.

"Is she the reason why we've been doing this?" she asked with the pure, uncompromising honesty that I'd come to expect from her.

"Yes," I said simply, not seeing any reason to lie.

I expected her to be angry or something. I mean, we had been fooling around on an almost daily basis and that sort of thing generally implies… well, that there's more going on than merely fooling around.

"Oh. That's all right, then," she told me. "You see, I was getting sort of worried, Gin."

"Worried?"

"Yes, I was, but now I'm not."

"Oh?"

"I'm not in love with you either," she said, beamed me a smile, pulled me close and kissed me sloppily on the mouth.

I figured I might as well finish what I'd started. Besides, I didn't want to look too eager by going after Fleur.

I had to make haste, though, and undertake something soon. With her engagement broken off, she was planning to return to France as soon as it was safe to do so.

 

***

 

That night, she came downstairs looking more stunning than I'd ever seen her.

And I wasn't the only one who noticed. My brothers (Bill included, much to Tonks' obvious horror) all but drooled into their plates, and I was stunned to see that even Dad was distracted and altogether out of sorts.

For a moment I was worried that she was trying to win Bill back, a desperate final attempt before she threw in the towel, until I noticed - or rather _sensed_\- that it was me she'd set her sights on, and me alone.

She was using her Veela powers for once, albeit unwittingly.

Truthfully, I hadn't planned anything like that, having the tables turned on me in such a manner, but then as I stopped to consider it, I found that I didn't mind.

The important thing was that after all that time I finally had her attention.

And _how_.

 

***

 

After dinner, she offered to help me with the washing up.

Everyone in the room pretended that this was normal for Fleur, who generally never got her hands dirty, let alone lowered herself to such menial chores, because everyone was simply dying to get out of there.

The men were struggling to ignore the effect Fleur was having on them, and the women wanted Fleur out of the men's sight as soon as possible.

It was a most convenient development, overall.

I stood up to carry a plate to the sink, but she didn't let me get that far.

Instead, I suddenly found myself slammed against the fridge door.

Before I could say anything, she kissed me, and in that moment, all I could think that she was better than Luna, _different_, more determined and forceful, and she left me breathless.

"You are not involved vit zat Lovegood girl, are you?" she asked. It hadn't expected her to be so direct. I hadn't expected her to give a donkey's about that either.

Of course, she had just been cheated on, herself, so perhaps it stood to reason that she didn't want to do it to someone else.

All I could do was shake my head. Well, her kiss had left me kind of speechless.

"Zat is good," she said and she kissed me again.

I don't recall how we managed to get the dishes done, but the rest of that night I remember quite vividly.

And it was only the beginning.


End file.
